


Incorrigible

by alifeasvivid



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, UKUS, decidedly not very wholesome feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 17:54:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20029924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alifeasvivid/pseuds/alifeasvivid
Summary: No one’s paying attention to the two bored/hedonistic nations in the back of the meeting. Shame really.Drabble.





	Incorrigible

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of just like that whole “America is kind of a horny teenager and England is extremely indulgent” dynamic.

It’s only a thousand years of schooling himself to control his reactions that keeps England from visibly shivering whilst America purrs in his ear. It’s impossible to tell from the outside if England is annoyed or aroused by the younger nation and that’s on purpose, but he’s having trouble figuring it out for himself as well.

America is very like an overgrown child in many ways. He wants what he wants when he wants it and he often wants England. Patience is not one of America’s virtues and England supposes that to be his fault since he could hardly impart to his colony a trait on which he himself only has a tenuous grasp on an average day, not that he’d ever admit it aloud.

Nor does America make it at all easy for anyone to say no to him, in no small part due to all those “big sticks” he carries while still being unable to speak softly.

He’s speaking softly now, however. Mumbling obscene things in England’s ear with his hand on the inside of England’s thigh.

England stays very still, neither pushing away nor surrendering. “America, we’re in a meeting,” he mutters back. It’s technically true, but it’s a rather large gathering in an auditorium and they are sat quite near the back, quite out of the view of any news cameras, quite beyond anyone’s notice.

Not that being out in public has proved to be a fully consistent deterrent to indulging in certain appetites for the two of them.

“No one cares,” America murmurs, warm and heavy against England’s cheek. “I don’t care, just want you.”

England smirks wickedly, not that America sees it since he buries his face in the older nation’s neck. America really is so like an overgrown child sometimes, but England often finds it… entertaining in these situations. The younger nation’s predictable lack of finesse is more than compensated for by his unadulterated enthusiasm. “Do you? Or are you merely bored?”

“Does it matter?” America nearly whines.

“No, likely not.” England says, sighing heavily as if beleaguered and pinching America’s wandering hand when the lad chuckles at the theatrics.

America turns England’s head to coax England into kiss him, which he does because America is too lovely not to kiss when looked at directly and England often avoids looking at him directly for that reason. “You want me too,” America rasps when he is released.

“Of course I do, darling.” England presses kisses all over his face and no one else notices at all.

America grins and sinks to his knees on the floor, knowing well enough by now that that’s probably all the consent England will give him. Plausible deniability is a useful thing to hold onto.

But then, so is America’s soft, golden hair as he satisfies his oral fixation using England’s cock. England’s darling boy with his darling blue eyes and his darling pink lips and his darling tight throat.

England parts his thighs, tangling his fingers in America’s hair, and tries not to concentrate too hard on remaining quiet or still because he wants to focus on the feel of the delicious pressure of America’s mouth sucking on him. When he realizes he might be pulling too tightly, he unwinds his fingers from America’s hair and pets him soothingly.

England looks out over the auditorium and then back down at America and the entire clandestine nature of it all thrills him with shivers he now can’t hide… or doesn’t try to. 

America gazes up at him intermittently, eyes occasionally sliding shut in bliss when England’s cock throbs in his mouth. When his eyes are open, his expression is somewhere between the cat that got the canary and reverent infatuation.

Between that expression and America apparently intending to suck out England’s soul, it’s too much. England’s muscles pull taut, his back arches, and he does nothing to pull away from America as his orgasm barrels toward him. “America… ah… fuck,” is all the warning he can manage before he spills into the younger nation’s mouth.

England collapses for a few moments, trying to recover, and America swallows with a cheeky grin before tucking him back into his trousers and sliding coolly back into his previous seat.

England yanks America forward and kisses him fiercely because he likes that taste, to be honest. His hand slips down into America’s trousers, but finds, as he sometimes does in these situations, that his help his not needed. “Lewd brat,” he chides.

“Your fault.” America smiles beamingly at him and likely doesn't know how true that statement really is.

Still no one seems to notice them. It’s almost a shame really.


End file.
